


Spark of Black

by ashinae



Category: Star Wars Episode VII: The Force Awakens (2015)
Genre: Anal Sex, BDSM, Belting, Biting, Consensual But Not Safe Or Sane, Darth Tantrum and his Evil Space Ginger, Dominant Hux, Glove Kink, Hair-pulling, Kylo Ren Has No Safeword, M/M, No Aftercare, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Spanking, Submissive Kylo Ren
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-02-21
Updated: 2016-02-21
Packaged: 2018-05-22 10:47:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,255
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6076467
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ashinae/pseuds/ashinae
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is the way it works: Kylo Ren has a tantrum. Hux picks up the pieces. But it's about more than repairs and requisitions--it's about what Ren needs. Ren needs control, and Hux is more than prepared to give it to him. More than that, Hux needs it, too. They've fallen into a rhythm together: pain, pleasure, release, <b>control.</b></p><p>
  <i>Rhythm; routine; ritual. Whatever they might call it, it seldom if ever wavered. At first, it took them a while to fall into this--to work out the kinks, so to speak, to get past false starts, to work through the way Ren fought Hux at the beginning.</i>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Spark of Black

**Author's Note:**

  * For [jay_linden](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jay_linden/gifts).



> Kylo Ren has no safeword. Kylo Ren needs no safeword. Except he does--but try telling him that. That's what Hux is for. I don't think there's anything in here that would make anyone who actually likes BDSM blink, but I think it's worth noting again: they don't practice the S parts of SSC, only the C. I just figured I'd put those in the tags because I'm so not done with these guys, and consistency makes me happy.

They quickly fell into a steady rhythm.

For the most part, Hux had resigned himself to frequently requisitioning repairs and replacements for necessary equipment, after Kylo Ren's temper tantrums. But even Ren seemed to know when enough was enough, and, when Hux would send a (generally nervous) runner to Ren to tell him that the general required his presence at a certain time, he would always come.

***

The door chimed and Hux used the controls on his desk to open the door. If for some unholy reason it wasn't Ren, the individual who entered would announce their presence--otherwise, Hux never looked up. When no one spoke and the door slid closed, Hux listened for the sound of Ren's mask hitting the floor. He pressed the controls to ensure the door could not be unlocked from outside except with override codes, and continued to keep his attention on the datapad in front of him. He said nothing, instead listening as one boot, then the other, hit the floor, too. Belt. Then the more whisper-soft sounds of layers of fabric.

He could feel it when Ren took a step closer, and he snapped, "Clean up after yourself. You are not an animal, no matter how you act like one."

Rhythm; routine; ritual. Whatever they might call it, it seldom if ever wavered. At first, it took them a while to fall into this--to work out the kinks, so to speak, to get past false starts, to work through the way Ren fought Hux at the beginning.

This time, when Ren approached, Hux didn't stop him. He kept going, until he was exactly where they both wanted him.

_It's not 'want', as much as desire played into it. It's need--a need that burns bright and hot, inside both of them._

Hux drew his gloves on when he stood. He turned away from his desk, opened a drawer, and took out a belt. Civilian, leather, narrow--not something he would usually be caught wearing, but something that he has for a particular purpose. For _this_ purpose.

And he certainly wouldn't use a belt that belonged to a uniform for this purpose.

When he turned back, he finally looked at Ren--all long, lean muscle, bent over Hux's desk, braced on his elbows, head bowed, waiting. Hux allowed himself a tiny smile, just a quirk of one corner of his mouth, as he approached. His boots were loud in the quiet room, and he saw the tension grow in the lines of Ren's body as he drew closer. He folded the belt in half and dragged it up over the back of Ren's thigh. Ren took in a shuddering breath.

Hux smiled again.

There was at least one other implement Hux could use to tease Ren, but wouldn't have done as well to give him the kind of pain he so obviously needed. Even still, it wasn't long before Ren was outright squirming as Hux dragged the leather over his skin.

He was careful with Ren _(and how very strange that is)_ because Ren would not be careful with himself. Whatever it was that Hux felt for or about Ren, he had no desire to harm him permanently--if he did, he may never experience this again and it was entirely possible it would be extremely hazardous to his own personal well-being. Hux couldn't afford to be careless.

The first blow came without warning. All it got from Ren was a sharp breath. The second blow fell higher than the first. Another gasp. Ren would hate it if he knew that Hux called it that. Ren would consider it a weakness. Hux smiled, made Ren wait as he ran a gloved hand up Ren's back and took hold of his hair to pull his head back. Hux leaned forward and whispered in Ren's ear, "Thank me."

"Thank you," said Ren, low and rough.

Hux released his hair, but not without shoving his head forward. Ren stayed still this time as he waited, as Hux trailed his hand slowly back down his body and to one of his hips, almost like affection except for how hard he squeezed.

Ren stayed still.

The third blow struck across the other cheek. Another breath, in through Ren's teeth _(another gasp--good)._ The fourth on the back of his thigh, then it was time to wait again. Hux held the belt in his other hand for a while and moved his hand over Ren's skin. He was warm; Hux could feel it even through leather, but he should have known from the first that Kylo Ren would run hot without needing to be beaten first. He let his fingers dip into Ren's crease, and over his hole, and Ren parted his thighs in invitation. Hux continued a slow, almost lazy exploration with his fingers, right until Ren's knees nearly gave out entirely. It was then that Hux withdrew his hand completely. 

Ren made a small noise of disappointment, a fraction of a moment before the belt fell again. Ren gasped--Hux smirked. They both waited, each of Ren's ragged breaths loud in the room--and gone, suddenly, when the belt came down for the sixth time. He was unnaturally still. Hux reached up and took hold of Ren's hair, jerked his head back, and said, sharply, "Breathe."

Hux's chair shot back from the desk--the desk itself was shaking, but Ren wasn't moving. He did breathe, though, so Hux released his hair and struck him with the belt for the seventh time, in almost the exact same place as the very first blow. 

The chair fell over entirely as Ren cried out. Hux leaned over his back to whisper in his ear, "If you can't control yourself, I'll stop. Is that what you want?"

The entire room seemed to be shaking now. Hux all but growled as he pushed his hand back into Ren's hair, but this time he pushed his head down, forced his cheek onto the desk. "I can send you away and you can walk out of here, hard as you are, unsatisfied. I don't have to do this--I don't have to hurt you. I don't have to fuck you."

Ren whined. He closed his eyes, and soon the room was still again. Hux tugged on his hair. "Shall I continue?"

"Yes," Ren rasped. "Continue."

As much as Hux was reluctant to admit it, even to himself, but he didn't want to send Ren away--just as much as Ren didn't want to leave. Kylo Ren wasn't the only one between them who needed this. He wasn't the only one who felt relief from their shared routine. Hux ran his hand over Ren's ass, smiled to himself when Ren sighed, and adjusted his grip on the belt.

 _Eight._ Ren cried out. Hux reached down to adjust himself in his trousers--if he had as little control as Ren did, Ren's cries could be his undoing. He touched Ren's flesh with his gloved hand again, and received a deep, shuddering moan for it. Hux let his fingers dig in, was rewarded with a gasp, and a moment later, a growled curse.

"I've told you not to speak of my mother that way," Hux said, voice stern, in contrast to his words and the smirk on his face. The ninth blow he delivered to Ren's ass was with his hand--a hard, open-palm slap. Another bone-deep shudder ran through not only Ren, but Hux and the room. 

An award toppled off a shelf. It didn't break when it hit the floor--in fact, its descent had been remarkably controlled. Because if Hux knew anything about Kylo Ren, it was that when he _wanted_ to, he had extraordinary control over his power.

 _Ten._ His hand again. "You did that on purpose," Hux said.

"No," Ren lied.

Hux let his hand fall again, with as much weight and power behind the blow as he could manage. This time, Ren didn't cry out. Instead, he moaned as if he'd received a caress. "Don't test me," Hux warned. "It may not turn out the way you so obviously want it to." His words hung in the air between them, until Ren finally spoke.

"I won't. Give me more." Ren paused, almost for too long. "Please. More."

Hux gave his cock a little squeeze--reassurance that patience would pay off--because if he was perfectly honest with himself, there was little he found quite so arousing as Kylo Ren saying the word _please,_ even as an afterthought. "Very good," he said, his voice low, almost a purr. He went back to the belt for the twelfth strike, and was instantly followed by another cry. 

"Good. Let me hear you." After two more blows with the belt, Hux could feel the heat radiating from Ren's very red skin. He stepped away, breathing almost as hard as Ren was. He almost praised him for not moving--for being patient, for waiting as Hux returned the belt to its place. But he said nothing, even when he returned to his desk and touched Ren, trailing his fingers down Ren's spine. Ren cursed, and Hux shushed him. Ren growled, a low rumble like a feral creature--which he was, really, Hux mused before he brought his hand down on Ren's ass.

This rhythm between them was a steady, breathing thing--more so than the lust that coiled and tensed inside Hux, though no less alive. And the rhythm let Hux know when Ren had had enough, because Ren never did. He wasn't there yet. He hadn't cracked, hadn't broken open for Hux to put all the pieces of him back together. He adjusted his position, standing close enough that if he pressed his hips forward even just a little bit, Ren would be able to feel how hard he was. He put one hand on the back of Ren's head as he stood beside him, and brought the other one down on Ren's ass again and again, merciless, consistent, until nearly everything in the room was shaking again.

Hux yanked off one of his gloves and tossed it onto the desk. The shaking stopped. He tugged Ren's head back by his hair and reached beneath his body to wrap his bare hand around Ren's cock. That was all it took--just a touch, and Hux damned well knew it. Ren all but howled when he came, spending himself on Hux's hand. As Hux drew his hand away and rubbed his fingers--rubbed Ren's own come--over his hole, he bit at Ren's earlobe and whispered, "What are you?"

Ren shuddered and shoved his hips back.

"Say it. Tell me what you are." Hux held himself very still, except for his fingers. He pushed one into Ren's body, making him cry out. _"Say it,"_ he hissed. "If you want me to fuck you—"

"I'm a whore," Ren gasped.

Hux pulled on his hair. _"Whose?"_

"Yours. I'm your whore. Fuck me, damn you, fuck me!" Ren was shaking, almost violently, but at least Hux's furniture and belongings weren't. 

"There. Good boy," Hux purred. He pulled his finger away and stepped back, hand still in Ren's hair so that he had no choice but to go where Hux wanted, or lose all that pretty black hair of his. Hux pulled again, and Ren knew exactly where he was supposed to go as he dropped to his knees.

This was the first time they'd looked at each other's faces since Ren had walked into the room. Ren truly did seem utterly feral, his lips parted, his pupils blown so wide that his irises seemed entirely black. He waited, patiently, as Hux opened his belt, removed his uniform jacket--both placed on the desk, but on the opposite side of it--then opened his trousers. Hux curled his fingers around his cock, unable to hold back a sharp intake of breath at his own touch, and pushed past those full lips and into Ren's mouth and put his hand back in Ren's hair.

Perhaps the ritual and routine wasn't quite the same as it had always been. This was only the second time now that Hux had trusted that he could take Ren's mouth--for some time, he'd genuinely feared that he'd feel Ren's teeth. But it had been too difficult to keep holding back, and now here they were. The Supreme Leader's prized pupil was Hux's _pet,_ on his knees, obedient and pliant now that he was sated, and not offering up the least bit of resistance as Hux thrust shallowly into his mouth.

They could work on Ren's tolerance, how much he could take, a little bit at a time. They'd already accomplished that with the pain, although Hux had to be responsible for every little increase in intensity. Sooner or later, with enough time and practice, Hux was confident that he could fuck Ren's mouth the way he fucked his ass.

For tonight, Hux pushed just far enough to make Ren choke. When his shoulders heaved and he reached up to shove at Hux's hips, Hux immediately pulled back. As Ren coughed, Hux yanked him up to his feet again, roughly, for a moment feeling just as feral as he thought Ren was. He turned Ren around, bent him over the desk again. His hand--still wearing the one glove which meant that the leather made Ren shiver--moved from Ren's hair down to the small of his back.

"Breathe," Hux said, the only command, the only warning, he gave before he started to push inside Ren's body. Ren didn't, which wasn't surprising, but Hux spared him nothing. He pushed steadily forward, looking down to watch as his cock disappeared into Ren's body. Still, Ren was relaxed enough from his release that it wasn't quite as difficult as it could have been for Hux to bury himself all the way inside him.

Nothing like the first time, with Ren whining and squirming as Hux worked his cock inside him, the air, the furniture, _everything,_ shaking around them until Hux had slapped his ass to bring him back into the moment.

Now, though--now, Ren hardly offered up any resistance at all. He was sated and knew that it was Hux's turn. He knew what was expected of him in return for receiving what he ached for, and braced himself on the desk as Hux used him like the whore he so obediently declared himself to be. Seated deep in Ren's body, Hux could grasp his hips and start to move.

He watched the expanse of Ren's back as Ren lowered his chest to the desk, rested his cheek against it, too, and closed his eyes. His lips were still parted, he panted for breath, and he looked so perfectly debauched that a swell of triumph rose up in Hux, almost enough to make him throw back his head and laugh. That wouldn't do, of course--but Ren knew. Ren's lips curled up in a smile and he reached up, unerringly able to locate that single glove and wrap his fingers around it.

Hux found it oddly endearing, in its way. In _their_ way.

He gripped Ren's hips as tight as he could as he thrust harder, faster, and didn't bother to bite back any sounds he made. He could reward Ren with his groans of pleasure, even as he rewarded him with more bruises to carry under the layers of his robes--the same layers that hid this body, all these lean, muscled lines, that belonged to _him._ No one else saw him like this. No one else could have him like this.

Groaning, Hux leaned over Ren's back again and bit the back of his shoulder. He worried the flesh there, sucked on it, until he was perfectly satisfied with the mark he'd left and his thrusts grew both shallower and rougher, his rhythm faltering as he drew closer and closer to the limits of his control. Ren whimpered and didn't bother to hide it. Another bruise, another reward, another ache. 

"Mine," Hux gasped out, "mine, mine."

"Yes, yours," Ren said. His voice broke on that second little syllable, and that was enough to push Hux over the edge. He groaned loudly, right into Ren's ear, as he came--as he marked Ren inside, too.

Hux let his weight rest on Ren for several long moments, and Ren bore it--bore _him_ \--without complaint. He sucked in a hissing breath when Hux withdrew from his body, then pushed himself up onto his elbows, head bowed forward, legs still spread, the glove still in his clenched fist, waiting. Hux smiled another little smile, and took Ren by the hair one more time. He didn't pull this time; instead, Ren tilted his head back, rubbed it against Hux's hand, another rumbling moan deep in his chest. 

"Good boy." Hux turned Ren's head so that he could cover his mouth with his own. He'd meant for the kiss to be harder, rougher, but Ren pushed for what Hux hadn't initially given him. This was Ren's way of claiming Hux in return, and Hux allowed it with an alarming amount of enthusiasm. The kiss broke only when Ren gasped as Hux's fingers returned to his hole, to push inside, to keep his come inside Ren's body just a little longer.

"Yours," Ren said against Hux's mouth.

"Mine." Hux bit Ren's lower lip, hard, and Ren followed the bite with a swipe of his tongue over his own lip. Hux pulled back just enough for his eyes to dart to Ren's mouth, but he hadn't broken skin.

_Harder next time, then._

Next time, apparently, was right then. Ren reached around Hux's body, held him close, kissed him again. Hux's eyes opened wide in surprise, but Ren's were thankfully closed. Hux was stiff in Ren's arm for a moment, then he relaxed. Kissed him back. Bit him again. Ren drew back sharply, tongue against his lip again, and this time, Hux knew that Ren tasted blood, from the way Ren's eyes narrowed dangerously at him.

But Hux only smirked and drew away, leaving Ren empty all over again. He only took a few steps back, just enough so that he could admire his own handiwork. Ren really did look utterly debauched, and if Hux could get hard again that quickly, he'd have Ren on his knees on the floor. Face down, ass up as high as he could get it with his knees spread apart, mewling and whimpering as Hux fucked him again.

Instead, Hux said, "Clean yourself up." As Ren all but staggered away, Hux tucked himself back into his trousers, took off his other glove, and drew his jacket back on. He righted his chair, found his datapad--thankfully no worse for wear--and sat down at his desk as though nothing untoward had just happened on top of it.

Several minutes later, when Ren was cleaned up and dressed, Hux felt more than heard him behind his chair. He didn't look up, but then he felt Ren's fingers in his hair. Ren didn't yank on it the way Hux did Ren's hair--perhaps because it wasn't long enough, perhaps because he didn't want to push his luck. Before Hux could say anything, Ren leaned down and kissed him, hard, bruising, enough to leave both of their mouths swollen when he pulled back.

Ren whispered against Hux's lips: "Mine."

_No use denying it._

"Yes."

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks, as always, to my dear Jay Linden for her bang-up beta work. I'd be lost without her.
> 
> Well, I guess I'm in this now. I left my first two viewings of The Force Awakens all a-flutter over Poe/Finn/Rey. Then after my third viewing, all I could think about was THESE TWO ASSHOLES. I'm worried I'm going to end up shipping these two as hard as I ship(ped) Sheppard/McKay, and I'm not sure how I feel about it.
> 
> Yeah, there'll be more.
> 
> I'm probably already writing it but shhhhh. Don't tell.


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